Why I Chose to Confront the Man Who Sexually Abused Me—and Why You Don’t Have To
By the time I stood face-to-face with the man who sexually abused me, I had already spent years healing from the wounds he left behind. Therapy, including talk therapy, visualization, and EMDR helped me to process the layers of shame, fear, and guilt I had wrapped around myself for decades. It took time, but through that process, I became someone I never imagined I could be: open, grounded, and finally free from the weight of the past.
I never thought I’d see him again, but as I planned a trip to my hometown earlier this year, the idea of confronting him began to take shape. My decision wasn’t driven by anger or a desire for revenge, but by something quieter and more personal: I had something to say to him—something I had never said to him before, and suddenly, I knew I needed to say it.
The Questions That Remained Unanswered
Even after years of therapy and meaningful progress in my healing, there were questions that stayed with me:
Why did he do it?
Was he sexually abused himself?
Did he understand how deeply it affected me?
Did he ever feel regret?
These questions mattered, not because I expected clear answers, but because asking them meant I was reclaiming my voice and stepping out of the silence that had shrouded the abuse for decades.
I Prepared, but Let Go of Expectations
In the days leading up to the meeting, I couldn’t think of anything else. I went over the conversation in my head, imagining how it might unfold. I felt physically sick at the thought of seeing him again. How would I begin? What should I say? I took the time to write down notes—just a few thoughts I wanted to remember, as well as questions I hoped I’d have the courage to ask. It wasn’t a rigid script, but in a situation where so much felt uncertain, preparing for our meeting gave me a sense of control.
I had low expectations. He could refuse to talk, he could deny everything, he could say he didn’t remember, and I had to be ready for all of that. In hindsight, allowing myself to be prepared but not attached to the outcome was one of the most powerful choices I made.
The Hardest Words I’ve Ever Spoken
When we sat down, the weight of the moment was suffocating. The words I had rehearsed silently, barely escaped my throat, but I spoke, and once I did, everything came out.
I told him what it had felt like to grow up carrying a secret that no one could see. I told him how it shaped me, how it caged me, how it followed me into every relationship, every decision, every part of who I became. I told him that I walked through the majority of my life feeling small, worthless, and unlovable and that he was the one who caused that.
At one point, I pulled a photograph from my bag—a picture of a four-year-old girl—innocent, wide-eyed, and smiling.
“How could you do that to her?” I asked.
When I looked at that picture of the four year old me, tears filled my eyes. I cried for her, but I didn’t fall apart. In those moments, I felt so much much sadness for that little girl, but at the same time, I felt a resounding strength rise within me. I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I was a woman—a strong, grounded woman—and I was delivering a metaphorical blow to the man who had once stolen my power.
He didn’t deny it. He sat silently and looked into the distance. He listened and eventually, he cried.
For the first time, my abuser was a witness to my pain. He was finally aware of the hurt and turmoil he had caused and I could see the regret in his eyes.
It Didn’t Change Everything—And That’s Okay
After our meeting, I felt lighter. I had done something that once seemed impossible and I was proud of myself. However, I didn’t walk away transformed in the way some might expect.
You see, my healing didn’t happen in that moment. It happened in therapy. It happened in the countless quiet evenings writing in my journal. It happened when I confided the abuse to my friends, and when I let go of the shame that wasn’t mine to carry. That conversation didn’t create my freedom—it confirmed it.
You Don’t Have to Confront Your Abuser to Heal
Confronting my abuser was a personal choice, one that felt right for me at that point in my journey, but the real closure came long before that day. It came in therapy, in every step I took to reclaim myself, and in learning to love the parts of myself that felt broken, buried, and afraid.
Not every survivor needs to confront the person who hurt them. For some of you, it may be unsafe, for others, the abuser may no longer be alive, and for many, it may just feel unnecessary—and that’s valid.
Healing doesn’t require confrontation. It requires truth, and that truth begins with you.
Speak your truth to a therapist. Speak it in your journal. Speak it to the little girl inside who still longs to be heard. You don’t have to face the one who hurt you to find peace. You simply have to turn inward and give your inner child the love, safety, and validation she’s always deserved. That’s where the true healing begins.